Say Yes to the Dress
by Whymsical
Summary: Arthur loses a bet and goes shopping with the Bad Touch Trio. USUK, rated T for language.


**A/N**: Here's an attempt of mine at a comedy. It's a one-shot. Enjoy~!

* * *

Arthur Kirkland really didn't know how he ended up in that store. Well okay, he did- it was the alcohol and a certain albino German ("_PRUSSIAN_ damnit, I'm Prussian!") who loved to make and win absolutely ridiculous bets- but he preferred to conveniently forget about that. It made his current situation slightly more bearable. Though the snickering coming from the Frenchman beside him wasn't helping at all.

"Could you kindly shut the bloody hell up?" Arthur muttered to him.

The snickering died down for a moment. "Don't worry, _mon ami_. You will look good. With that body of yours-"

"Shut up! I swear, I'm never going drinking with you three ever again!"

"Psst, Toni." the albino hissed to the final man on the couch, a Spaniard. "I'll bet you on that."

"Sure." Toni agreed eagerly. "I give him a month."

"Two weeks. What about you, Franny?"

"Ahh...I will go with one week." (The albino would end up winning that bet- again.)

Arthur groaned, allowing his head to fall into his hands. "Why do I keep hanging around you three?"

"Because we're awesome!"

A woman all dressed in black with grey eyes and blonde hair captured tightly in a bun approached them. "Hello!" she said, smiling brightly. "I'm Allison, who's my...bride today?" She faltered as her eyes roamed over the group. "If she's in the bathroom I can wait..."

More snickering erupted, but Arthur forced himself to ignore it. "I...I'm the one getting married." He felt an elbow in his ribs and gritted his teeth. "The...bride. Arthur Kirkland, pleasure to meet you."

"O-Oh." Allison seemed surprised, but she quickly brushed it off. "Will you be looking at suits then? We have a large selection in the back."

Another elbow and yet more chuckles. Arthur felt himself turn red and averted his eyes. "No." he forced out. "I'll be shopping for a...dress," he made a slight face at the word. "Today."

Now Allison looked really confused, but she once again masked it after a moment. "That's an...interesting request, but doable... Okay." She clapped her hands together and smiled warmly again. "Why don't you tell me about your fiancé and the people you've brought with you today?

"Err..." Arthur blinked, not expecting the rapid change of subject or mood. "My fiancé's name is Alfred F. Jones, and he's an astrophysicist. We've been dating for about three years, and he proposed a few months ago." he said carefully, judging her reaction. By her genuine smile and lack of revolted looks so far, he guessed he was okay. There was still homophobia in plenty of places. Arthur himself worked in the history archives at the local university, and one or two of his co-workers had turned cold and distant after finding out about his sexuality.

"And your friends?" Allison prodded.

"My _acquaintances_ are Francis, Gilbert, and Antonio." Arthur pointed to the Frenchman, Prussian, and Spaniard in turn. "They forced me into doing this-"

"And are here to make sure he picks the right dress." Francis interrupted.

"So he doesn't look too much like an idiot." Gilbert added.

"And so Alfred thinks he is _muy_ sexy." Antonio finished.

Arthur coughed pointedly at them. "Can we please just get on with this?" he asked Allison.

"Sure." There was an amused grin on her face from watching the bantering going on between the four men, but she let it disappear now. "Mr. Kirkland if you'll follow me, and you three can make your way to dressing room number three. It's down that hallway, and feel free to take a look at some dresses along the way."

Arthur rose and followed her, a slight look of horror on his face when Francis, Gilbert, and Antonio (self-dubbed 'The Bad Touch Trio', or 'The Bad Friends Trio, depending on what side you were looking at them from) hurried past them, identical evil smirks gracing their lips. Allison led him to a small white room where she gave him a robe and told him to sit down. She took a seat beside him and whipped out a notepad.

"So Mr. Kirkland, I need to know your price range and what you are looking for."

"Please, just call me Arthur. I really don't know what I'm looking for or price or anything. I found out I would be wearing a dress yesterday morning."

Allison smiled encouragingly at him. "Don't worry Arthur, I'll help you with everything. Let's start with pricing. You have no idea at all what you budget would be?"

Arthur shifted on his chair. "I'm afraid I'm quite new to all of this. But I suppose...a-anything less than two thousand would work?"

"That's a good price range, we should have a good selection for you."

"Wonderful." Arthur muttered unenthusiastically.

"Undress to your underwear and put on the robe, please. I'll go get some simple selections for you to start with." Allison said brightly, standing and sweeping from the room.

Once he was left alone, Arthur considered his escape options. The room had no windows, so that was out. And the door only led to where Francis, Gilbert, and Antonio were waiting and prowling the racks. Arthur sighed heavily and began stripping. He only hoped that Alfred would take it okay. His fiancé didn't know about the dress, and the trio of troublemakers were adamant about keeping it that way. The Englishman huffed as he pulled the robe tight around his waist and sat back down, crossing his legs in displeasure.

All too soon, Allison was back. "I have suggestions from your friends." she said, smiling apologetically. "They were very insistent that you try them on." She held out a short, corseted dress. "This one was Gilbert's pick."

Arthur took one look at the dress and shook his head violently. "No. There is no way in _hell_ I'm putting that on."

"Err...Francis also added that if you wouldn't put on any of the suggested dresses, he would come in here and put you in them himself."

"Whose side are you on?" Arthur asked, glaring reproachfully at the blonde.

Allison raised her hands into the air. "I'm just the messenger."

"...Fine, help me into that blasted thing." Arthur finally muttered. "I don't need any frogs coming in here and molesting me."

The woman seemed a bit nervous about the last part of Arthur's words, but she stepped forward with the dress to help him into it. Arthur gasped out when she pulled the corset tight, the satin ribbons pressing painfully against his unyielding chest and sides. Allison uttered an apology but continued her work until the dress was completely secure around his body. Not that it covered much.

"Is this a wedding dress or a stripper's outfit?" he asked incredulously as he examined himself in the mirror.

There were light, flimsy sleeves that rested just above his bicep, and the rest of the dress seemed to be made of the same semi-see-through material. It hugged his upper body tightly, showing off his muscles, and then flared to a short ruffled poofy skirt that ended at around his mid-thighs. Okay, so Arthur admitted that he didn't look _that_ bad, but it was still a little ridiculous.

"I assure you, we only have wedding dresses here." Allison darted around him, adjusting various pieces into their rightful places. "This would be more of a second dress for someone more outgoing and who loved partying."

"I can see that." Arthur muttered.

Loud, rapid knocking erupted from the door. "Yo, Eyebrows, you ready to show us yet?" Gilbert called.

"Belt up!" Arthur yelled back, but then sighed. "Open the door. Might as well get it over with."

Allison nodded and opened the door, stepping out first. Arthur followed at a slightly slower pace, trying to keep the red on his cheeks to a minimum. Francis, Gilbert, and Antonio's eyes didn't leave him for a second as he unwillingly stepped onto the small pedestal in front of a large mirror. He didn't like the silence behind him one bit, but Gilbert broke it soon enough.

The albino nudged his friends. "Isn't that club looking for new pole dancers? I bet they'd take him, especially in that outfit." he stage-whispered.

"_Sí_, especially with those legs." Antonio readily agreed.

"Do you think he shaves them?" Francis leaned forward in his seat.

Arthur managed to look even more scandalized than he already did. "Sh-Shut up, I do not! My hair's just very light in colour!"

"They do look very good." Antonio murmured, running a hand up his own leg.

"You dolts know I'm getting _married_ in a week, right?" Arthur snapped, spinning on his pedestal to glare at the trio, hands on his hips.

"Oooh, look at that attitude." Gilbert snickered.

"Yes, yes, we know you're getting married." Francis said, rolling his eyes. "That is why we are here, remember?"

Arthur groaned. "I'm taking this off now. There's no way I'd ever wear this." he snapped, striding off the pedestal.

"_Oui_. Although it is amusing to see you wear it, that dress is not for your wedding." Francis told him.

"That's why I chose it. For the amusement." Gilbert looked extremely pleased with himself, and he quickly snapped a photo on his phone when Arthur turned to glare at him.

"Come on Arthur, next dress then." Allison guided him back into the little room before the atmosphere could escalate any more. She eased him out of the corseted dress and held out the next one, which happened to be Antonio's pick.

"Is that one dress or five?" Arthur asked, his mind struggling to take in all the fabric before his face.

Allison laughed. "Just one. Come on, I'm going to put it on over your head." She eased it over him and expertly smoothed it down. Arthur found himself in a very poofy ball gown with criss-cross jewel-inlaid ruching on the top and free-flowing tulle on the bottom. This dress also had a corset, but this one wasn't as restraining.

"I look like I'm drowning in all this material." Arthur said flatly.

Allison said nothing in response and instead opened the door again, allowing him out. The trio all stood when they laid eyes on him.

"Now presenting, the Princess Arthur!" Gilbert announced seriously, and he and the other two applauded politely.

"Shut up." Arthur muttered, glowering.

Francis took a step forward and bowed. "May I have this dance, _ma princesse_?" he asked.

"Touch me and you die." Arthur growled. He swept past them and up onto the pedestal again.

"Just look at all that grace flowing off him." Gilbert was back in stage-whisper mode.

"It almost makes me wonder what he'd look like in it with his old hair." Francis replied.

Gilbert's eyes widened. "What, that caterpillar look-alike thingy from two years ago?"

"_Oui_. It was long then, at least. Would have fit this dress very well. On some very few occasions, like this one, I almost regret cutting it off."

"You should you bastard, I looked brilliant in that!" Arthur interjected.

"If by 'brilliant' you mean 'completely unawesome', then yes." Gilbert nudged Antonio. "You've been quiet, what do you think? You picked it, right?"

Antonio studied Arthur critically. "Lovino would wear it better." he finally declared.

Francis snorted. "You would think that."

"So what do ya say, Eyebrows?" Gilbert asked. "Oh, I'm sorry, _Princess_ Eyebrows. Is this the dress?"

"Shut up. Definitely not." Arthur shot back immediately.

"Next dress, then. My pick remains." Francis shooed him off the pedestal and back to the dressing room.

"Oh _God_, I don't even want to know what you picked." Arthur muttered.

Francis heard him, and he patted the Englishman's arm on his way. "Don't worry, I picked something normal. You can trust my sense of styling."

"I don't trust any part of you." Arthur told him shortly before Allison closed the door to the room, effectively cutting off all remaining conversation.

"Are you guys always like this?" the woman asked, raising an eyebrow at him while she loosened the strings of the dress.

"Unfortunately, yes." Arthur gently waved her off and took the dress off himself, heaving the copious amounts of fabric off his body.

Allison took it from him and hung it back up on its hanger before taking down the final one. "The Frenchman was right, though. This dress is very pretty and very normal, I assure you."

Arthur studied her critically, and then decided that he trusted her. At his nod, she put this dress on him. It was a slight mermaid design with an emerald green waistband and a sweetheart neckline. It was loose on him in some places and tight in others, but on the whole it didn't look terrible. At least he didn't look like he belonged in a club or like he was lost in his own clothing.

The door opened before him and he strode out, looking confident. He ignored the trio until he had settled comfortably on the pedestal and taken a good look at himself in the mirror. Only then did he turn to face them, the expression on his face almost daring them to make any negative comments. He had no idea where the sudden confidence had come from, but hey, he wasn't blushing now and he was willing to ride it out.

"That dress does nothing for your breasts." Gilbert said bluntly.

"_I have no breasts, I am a male!_" Arthur hissed back. Well, that ride as short lived.

"_Oui_, that is the problem."

Arthur stared at the Frenchman. "What the hell does that mean?"

"All the curves are lost, too. See there how it hangs off him?" Antonio chimed in. "It's a good dress, but for a _chica_."

Allison, who had stayed quiet the previous times, spoke up now. "So no to this dress too?" she asked. The response was instantaneous.

"_Non_."

"_Nein_."

"_No_."

Arthur silently stepped off the pedestal and glared at them while he walked past, back to the room. "Pick better choices, then." he hissed before he slammed the door shut.

As Allison was also left out to the room, he pulled the dress off himself and hung it up properly, afterwards settling down on a chair to wait for the next round of choices to come in. His blissful silence and isolation was short lived, however.

"OH _GOTT_, HE TOTALLY HAS TO TRY THIS AWESOMENESS ON!"

Gilbert's shriek could be heard throughout the whole entire store, and Arthur froze when he heard it. Nothing good could possibly come from those words. The Englishman, heart thumping, sat and awaited what would come through the door. Someone, presumably Allison, knocked.

"Arthur? I assume you heard that..." the woman said softly.

"It would be hard not to hear it." Arthur replied, steeling himself.

"I have the dress here. He really wants you to try it on." Allison said. "But I could try to talk him out of it if you really want to."

"No, just bring it in here. It can't be that much worse than the short one." Arthur muttered wearily. He closed his eyes as the door opened. "I don't want to see it until it's on me though."

"Okay." Allison carefully maneuvered around him and slipped the dress on. She tightened and adjusted it until it lay as correctly as it could on is body. "There. Take a look."

Arthur slowly opened his eyes. And blinked. "...Feathers." Was the first thing he said. "There are wedding dresses with feathers on them."

Indeed, the dress he had on right now seemed normal from the waist up, but the skirt was made up of entirely pure white feathers layered over each other. They swirled together and gave off a shimmery illusion like a waterfall when Arthur rotated his hips a bit. He lightly tugged on one, but it seemed to be fastened on tightly.

"Not many, but there are. Don't pull on that, you might yank it out." Allison steered his hand away from the feathers and stepped to the door.

"Not surprising Gilbert found it, then..." Arthur muttered before stepping out.

The Prussian instantly cheered when he saw it. He was grinning widely and eagerly drinking in the sight while Francis and Antonio merely rolled their eyes and watched the proceedings with smirks on their faces. This time when Arthur stepped onto the pedestal, Gilbert went right up to him and ran a hand down the feathers, feeling their texture.

Arthur moved away from the contact, for at the same time the albino was also feeling up his leg. "You can't be serious about this as a wedding dress for me."

"No, but I wanted to see how you'd look in it." Gilbert went back to his seat and studied him from afar. "Could look better, but it's not terrible. Not awesome either." he finally declared.

Not bothering to wait for the other two's opinions, Arthur marched right back into the dressing room and once again closed the door with more force than was entirely necessary. "I'm not putting on any more dresses meant to be jokes!" he called through the door. "I swear, if it's not a serious pick then I won't be putting it on, Francis be damned!"

There was an indignant squawk from beyond the door. "Why would I be damned?" Francis asked, hurt lacing his voice.

"Because you're the tosspot who said he'd be forcing me into dresses!"

"Ah, right." There was silence for a moment. "Come on, _mes amis_, we must find our dear grumpy Englishman a dress."

Arthur sighed in the silence and prepared himself for whatever ridiculous dresses they would bring for him next. While the trio were scouring the racks, Allison discreetly brought him a few more choices to try on in the private of the room, but he rejected all of them. None of them just fit him well. He'd been in this store for almost two hours now, and his already thin patience with the situation was starting to run out.

"That's it." He finally snapped about half an hour later, standing on the podium yet again, this time in a plain dress with a few silvery swirls throughout the skirt. "One more dress. I'm trying on one more bloody dress, and then I'm leaving." he growled, and the trio actually seemed to get it that he was perfectly serious and seriously pissed off.

The last thing Arthur saw before he closed the door after storming off that time was Francis, Gilbert, and Antonio conferring together on their last move. Arthur used the time alone he had in the dressing room to pull himself together. One more dress. He could manage that.

"Arthur?" Allison's voice came through the door. "Francis found a dress for you."

"The frog?" Arthur made a displeased noise at the back of his throat. Though at least it wasn't Gilbert... his picks had been ridiculous all day.

"Arthur, you will like it." Francis's voice joined the conversation. "All foolishness aside, I think this could be the one." he said encouragingly. The Frenchman knew that Arthur would end up walking down the aisle in a dress either way- he was too prideful to forfeit a bet, even a ridiculous one made in a drunken stupor- but if the Englishman looked good and wasn't glaring the whole time then it would make the scene so much better.

"Bring it in." Arthur said, not entirely convinced by Francis's words.

The door opened a bit and Allison poked her head in before fully entering, a dress bag slung over her shoulder. "This one's one of my personal favourites. I have a good feeling about it."

Arthur nodded politely at her and turned to face the mirror in the room, closing his eyes and raising his hands so she could put the dress on him. He heard the rustle of fabric and the cool sensation of it sliding over his skin. He felt a shiver go through him. Some would call that foreshadowing, but Arthur just saw it as his body reacting to the cold charmeuse, as Allison explained the fabric of the underskirt was. The woman's hands fluttered around his body, tightening what needed to be tightened and smoothing out the rest. Arthur quickly came to realize that this dress was the most comfortable of all the ones he'd worn. It didn't pinch around his waist or sides as much, and there weren't any places where it sagged. Upon Allison's word he opened his eyes and stared.

The top of the dress fit around his chest and sides snugly and didn't sag in the spot where a woman's breasts would be. There weren't any jewels or decorations adorning it, but the skirt was all layered ruffles. And the ruffles weren't even that poofy, so it didn't look tacky or ridiculous. Allison smiled when she saw him in the mirror and pulled out a veil attached to a flower clip for seemingly nowhere. She slipped the clip into his hair and smoothed out the veil so it fell gracefully down his back and over his face.

"Necklace?" she asked.

Arthur tore his gaze away from the mirror to scowl at her. "No. I will keep as much dignity as possible in this situation."

"All right. You ready to show them?" Allison stepped over to the door.

"Yes."

Francis, Gilbert, and Antonio all smiled when he came out the door. The Frenchman nodded approvingly at the dress while the other two focused more on the completed image. Arthur didn't look at them until he was standing on the pedestal.

"I like it." he said the moment he turned around.

"_Ja_, it looks good on you. I actually can't find anything sarcastic to say- except the flower. The flower looks very pretty." Gilbert snickered slightly then, but it died down soon enough.

"Did I not tell you to trust my sense of style?" Francis flipped a strand of hair over his shoulder and sniffed, smiling at the Englishman.

"No need to look so smug about it, frog." Arthur snapped at him, huffing and crossing his arms. "You just got lucky, that's all."

"_Non_, I do not 'just get lucky' when it comes to style or _amour_. I was right about Alfred as well, no?"

"Shut up, I swear-"

"You look good, Arthur." Antonio cut in, wanting to avoid yet another argument between the two of them. "Alfred will like the dress, and you in it."

"Yeah, and getting you out of it." Gilbert laughed again.

Arthur turned redder and looked like he wanted to either strangle someone or hide in a deep hole to avoid the embarrassment, but after a few moments of twitching and coughing he suddenly calmed down. "That is none of your business."

"Yeah, yeah." Gilbert waved his hand. "On to the important shit, can you see yourself getting married in that?"

"I-" Arthur turned around again to study himself intently in the mirror once more. "Yes." he finally said. "I- I can see that happening." He suddenly whirled around, the ruffles floating up a bit on the breeze. "But don't you dare say I said that!"

Francis just smiled and turned to Allison. "We will be taking that dress, then. And this is for you, _madame_." He held out a white envelope. "A wedding invitation. Plus Arthur might need some help to prepare."

Allison smiled but then looked to the Englishman. "Are you okay with this?"

"Oh, yes." Arthur nodded. "You've been very helpful today, thank you."

"Your wedding's next week, right?" Allison suddenly asked.

"Yes, next Saturday." Arthur replied.

"There won't ben enough time to order one for you... That sample fits you perfectly, so would you mind if you had to take that one?"

"That is fine." Francis assured her. "We will just have it specially cleaned. Do not worry about it."

He shooed Arthur off the pedestal again and while he was in the dressing room, the trio went up and paid for the dress, veil, and flower clip. They had Arthur's wallet with them- he had given it to them for safe-keeping (not the best idea, but he didn't have much of a choice)- so they split the total bill between the four of them evenly. Since they were already making Arthur wear the dress, they figured that it would be nice for them to help pay for it. They didn't normally do such acts of kindness, but Arthur was a hilarious drinking partner that quite frankly they didn't want to lose over this affair, and they felt that this would help ease some of the sting.

When Arthur came out fully dressed with the bags he protested their decision but it was too late so in the end he just huffed and, scowling, led the way out of the store. Francis waved and blew a kiss to Allison on his way, and the other two just smirked. Arthur didn't speak to any of them in the car.

"If you keep on scowling so much, your face will stick that way." Francis, who was driving, commented.

"If I didn't have such bloody idiotic friends, perhaps I wouldn't have to scowl so often." Arthur shot back.

"You just need to loosen up." Gilbert called from the back and Antonio nodded from next to him.

Arthur glanced at them in the rearview mirror. "You three make that impossible. And besides, how am I supposed to hide the dress from Alfred? We live together."

"We will be taking the dress and holding onto it until Saturday." Francis told him. "All you have to do is not breathe a word to him about it until then."

"Aren't you worried that Alfred is going to, pardon my vulgar language, 'flip out' when he sees a person in a dress coming down the aisle to him?" Arthur asked scathingly.

"Ahh, but that is part of the fun, _mon ami_. We have hired the two best photographers in the business to capture the whole ceremony." Francis suddenly looked at his two best friends. "We could have invited them to come along today."

"Who did you hire?" Arthur asked warily.

"Elizaveta and Kiku." Came the reply from all three of the trio.

Arthur groaned. Though in hindsight, he should have expected it. The Hungarian woman and Japanese man were masters of the camera, and their shots always came out really well. Their talent was very popular and in high demand on the market, but they were friends of Alfred and Arthur not to mention huge supporters of the gay marriage movement, so they happily agreed to cover the American and Englishman's wedding.

"Wonderful." said Englishman muttered, his voice lacking any sort of enthusiasm or eagerness.

* * *

The days to the wedding flew by in a flurry of last-minute touch ups and organizational matters, both of which caused plenty of stress on Arthur since he was the one in charge of it. There came an awkward moment when Alfred was off to select his suit (last-minute, as was expected of him) and asked why Arthur wasn't coming along to pick out his. Arthur hastily mumbled something about choosing what he was going to wear days beforehand like a certain someone _should_ have done, and then quickly scurried off to another room to attend to another matter. Alfred was left confused, but he accepted the answer and stepped out with an eagerly volunteering trio to pick out his suit. Arthur glared at them from his window, but they just winked at him and cheerfully pushed Alfred into Francis's car.

The wedding would be a small one with only their closest friends and the family that accepted them in attendance at the pretty New York City venue. Preacher Roma, Antonio's boyfriend's grandfather- who was a very accepting man and probably the only person Arthur and Alfred would ever approach to ask if he would marry them- would be performing their ceremony, which would take place right where the party would take place. And since either Alfred or Arthur personally knew someone who was helping make the wedding happen (Alfred was friends with Toris who was the partner of Feliks who was in charge of flowers; Arthur knew the trio and Antonio's boyfriend's brother Feliciano was the cook; Alfred knew Ivan who was supplying the alcohol; Francis himself was baking the cake; Alfred was good friends with Kiku whose family were masters at paper decorations and origami; and Alfred's brother Matthew was kind enough to let them use the rooftop of his apartment as the venue), they managed to pull it off for far less money than they had originally feared it would cost. And of course Arthur's superior planning and vicious attention to detail brought it all together.

The day of the wedding dawned bright and clear, which was perfect weather since they were going to be outside for most of the day. Almost immediately, Alfred and Arthur were pulled apart as they were prepared for later. Alfred had Matthew and Kiku to help him while Arthur was stuck with the trio, but he was later saved by the arrival of Allison. The Englishman didn't know what was happening outside the room where he was getting ready and no one would tell him, a fact that irked him very much.

"Oh come on, Francis! I need to know that everything is going well!" Arthur cried, gripping the front of the Frenchman's shirt and shaking it slight.

"Arthur, don't worry. It will all work out perfectly." Francis reassured him, removing Arthur's hand before it could do lasting damage to his clothing. "You just need to focus on getting your dress on the rest of the way and then looking _beau_ for Alfred."

"He's right." Allison stepped behind him and lightly pulled him back to standing in front of the mirror so she could finish tightening the dress. "From what I've seen your friends are trustworthy and won't let anything bad happen today. Just relax."

Arthur took a few deep breaths and composed himself. "Yes. Everything will go perfectly. All I have to do is get to Alfred..."

"That's the spirit!" Antonio encouraged him.

"And Eyebrows, at least you don't have to worry about makeup or hair." Gilbert added from where he was leaning on the doorframe. "Not that anyone would be able to tame that rat's nest anyway."

"Not helping, Gilbert." Arthur muttered. He closed his eyes and thought about Alfred until he was completely ready and it was time to go.

Alfred was standing next to Matthew, and Gilbert and Antonio who had just slipped unnoticeably into their places not moments before. He wasn't sure what their wolfish smiles meant, but he decided not to dwell on that and instead focus on quelling the butterflies in his stomach. He gripped Matthew's arm tightly and was slightly reassured when his brother patted it.

"It'll go fine." the quiet blond whispered.

"Thanks, Mattie." Alfred replied, just as two figures appeared at the end of the aisle.

It was Francis, who was going to be giving Arthur away, and...someone in a dress? Alfred's stomach dropped and a cold sweat broke out on his back. He clutched Matthew's arm tighter.

"Mattie. _Mattie-_"

"Shh." Gilbert cut across him and winked. "It's all good, just go along with it." he whispered.

Alfred looked back at the approaching pair and noticed that the silhouette of the person in the dress didn't look all that feminine. The American glanced at Gilbert and was rewarded with another wink. He blinked and focused back ahead just as Francis and his companion reached them. And sure enough, under the veil was a blushing Arthur.

Arthur took his place opposite his partner as Francis walked over to stand beside Antonio. He smiled shyly up at Alfred from underneath his veil. "Hallo, Alfred." he said quietly.

"Uhh...hey Artie. You gotta tell me how the heck they managed ta get you in a dress later, kay?" Alfred whispered back, and they both snapped to attention as Roma began speaking.

The Italian preacher knew from experience that people got really bored during long ceremonies so he kept his short and tried (with varying success) to add a little humour to it every now and there. The vows were also short and sweet, written by the two getting married themselves.

"Alfred, you may kiss your bri- err, partner." he announced happily at the end of it all.

Alfred ever so slowly lifted the veil and smiled down at Arthur. He reached out and cupped the shorter man's face, leaning down to press a tender kiss to his lips. Arthur almost immediately locked his arms around Alfred's neck and deepened it, but they had to break off eventually before the rest of the guests got bored from watching them make out for five minutes. Which they had tried and done before. (The key was breathing through the nose.)

There was a resounding cheer when they broke apart, and they turned to smile at their friends. Alfred spotted Kiku and Elizaveta gesturing out of the corner of his eye, so he scooped Arthur up bridal style and posed for a picture.

The chairs were quickly moved aside and tables were brought up so the party part of the wedding could start. Alfred was in charge of planning it, as Arthur wasn't that much of a party type of guy. But he'd agreed to a more elaborate party because he knew it would make Alfred happy. And he was right.

He and Alfred danced alone for the first song. They swayed together softly, everyone else forming a ring around them and watching happily. They didn't really move all that much from their spot on the mock dance floor, preferring instead to be close together. The ruffles of Arthur's dress fluttered in the slight breeze from their moving bodies and the Englishman watched them almost hypnotically, ducking his head to keep the still prominent blush on his face at least partially hidden.

Alfred knew it was there but said nothing about it. He focused instead on the dress again. "I nearly had a heart attack when I saw it." he murmured.

Arthur glanced up and quirked a smile. "I figured you would. I wanted to tell you to avoid precisely that, but Francis and Co. wouldn't let me."

"When'd ya get it?"

"About a week ago."

"It'll be fun getting you out of it." Alfred suddenly said, smiling slightly nervously as he ran his hands along the intricately tied back. Because of course they couldn't at least get a dress with a zipped up back.

Arthur chuckled at that, trying not to dwell on the fact that Gilbert had said similar in the dress shop. "I'll help you if you need it, love."

"We've go all night to figure it out."

Alfred leaned in close and whispered that into his ear, and Arthur would be blatantly lying if he said he didn't react to those words.

As the first song drew to a close, Gilbert dragged Matthew out onto the dance floor, and was followed by Antonio and a protesting Lovino, as well as Francis and surprisingly Allison. The rest of their friends soon followed, and after a few nice slow songs they settled down to eat, the expected line of well-wishers and present-givers lining up at the head table as soon as the married couple got settled down.

Alfred and Arthur were alone at the head table, but the other tables were very close to each other so they wouldn't feel alienated from all their guests. It was over half an hour before everyone wished them well and they could all sit down to eat. Feliciano's food was as always delicious, and the cheerful Italian seemed to shine brighter with happiness with every compliment he received.

Francis's desserts came next, and after that more dancing. One of Arthur's (drinking) buddies, Matthias, was the DJ, and he livened it up with a nice balanced mix of music. Most of these songs were more Alfred's style of music and dancing so Arthur tried to sit out during them, but Alfred managed to drag him out for a few numbers. During a lull in the music they cut the cake to enthusiastic cheering, and it was back to another hour of dancing and drinking before everyone got tired and started wrapping it up. (They also wanted to give Arthur and Alfred plenty of time in bed, but no one admitted it out loud.)

All in all, even Arthur had to admit it was a wonderful wedding that went splendidly. By the end of the night the usually scowling and serious Englishman couldn't stop smiling, and at one point he had even disappeared into a dark corner to have himself a nice little crying session of happiness. Alfred had noticed the tear tracks on his cheeks when he came back, but the American had just kissed him and smiled.

Matthew and a few other generous guests volunteered to clean up and sent Alfred and Arthur off back to their apartment so they could make the most of their first night as a married pair. Alfred scooped Arthur up again and carried him over the threshold, and Arthur was too happy (and a bit drunk) to complain. Throughout the evening Alfred had kept a hand on Arthur's back as often as he could, running his fingers up and down the interwoven straps so he could get to know them and therefore have an easier time getting the dress of later. His actions paid off, and the dress was left discarded on the floor in less time than either of them thought it would take. They had had sex before, but that night it felt like their first time again, and as Arthur lay awake afterwards, curled into a sleeping Alfred's side, he thought he'd never been happier.

Despite having to wear a blasted dress.

* * *

**A/N**: What did you guys think? This little story came to me after seeing Johnny Weir, a champion American figure skater, on the TCL show, _Say Yes to the Dress_.


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